Our cottage is on an island, a small island, on a big lake where the properties can only be accessed by boat. Even on a busy holiday weekend like this one, it is relatively quiet. A return to the cottage is a return to the past. Here the life jackets from our two and four year old sons (now well into their 30's) still hang in the boathouse and New Yorkers from twenty years ago hide at the bottom of the magazine rack. At a cottage you can ignore the terrifying changes in the world and in yourself. Because this one place, this one lump of granite with its wooden cabin, does seem to be as it always was. Of course, that sense of permanence and security is illusory. This year we have cell service on the lake which brings the world in. The news is delivered to 'our door' just like home. But it also means I can connect with you. So here is a little tour of the cottage and some of the early pieces of hooking that I rediscover each year. The Maud Lewis was hooked by my mother and the fish, one of my first pieces, is a pattern from Christine Little of Mahone Bay, Nova Scotia. The other two were doodles in wool, the one beside Maud, a record of each day in October 2007. Just looking at that piece, like my sketch above, evokes the feelings and the thoughts running through me as it came to be. This is power of creativity, and that is something that doesn't change.